In the Deep
by vietnameseboi15
Summary: When Santana feels the pressure of being outed and receives no comfort from girlfriend Brittany, Santana decides to befriend Finn, a close friendship that will eventually become love. Brittanna, Pezberry friendship, and eventual Finntana. Post 3X07


**In the Deep**

After she downed her seventh shot of tequila, Santana found that it began to hurt a hell of a lot less…among other dulling sensations.

Sure, the inebriated Latina thought it was an awful decision to be downing her sorrows away in one of the shabbiest looking bars with 40-something year old men gawking at her every move, hoping to catch even the slightest hint of weakness. They preyed around like vultures, hoping to catch a one night stand with this stunningly gorgeous teenager, who looked like she goes to the local college.

Well, tough shit, Santana thought triumphantly, but she kind of expected it due to her outfit choice: skin-tight jeans and a low-cut blouse.

Though she was at least a 0.1% BAC level (she did the math in her head), Santana found herself able to still think clearly. It would take at least another one or twelve more shots to cause her to lose her inhibition, where she was described by others as being "weepy". Maybe it was her Hispanic blood that made her so immune to tequila, like the Russians are to vodka. But after finally dulling the pain inside her heart, Santana decided that seven shots were enough.

"Well…maybe one more," Santana told herself, edging her shot glass to the cute bartender and flashing him her signature seductive smile.

The bartender smirked as he returned her request with another shot of the dark golden, caramelized liquid into her lipstick-stained glass.

Bottoms up, Santana thought, as she gulped down the fiery drink and slammed the shot glass onto the counter.

As she stood up to leave her chair, she pulled from her tight jean pocket two 40 dollar bills and whispered to the bartender to "keep the change".

"Hey, baby. How's about one more drink, sweetie?" she heard a gruff voice from behind asked hoarsely as she was about to leave.

Santana swiftly turned around and approached the man sitting at the bench with three friends. He had a cigarette lit it on hand and a beer in the other. The man was pretty massive, arms covered in inked tattoo, wearing short sleeves, despite it being one of the chilliest winter nights seen in Ohio. No doubt, he and his similar friends were tough, wannabe "bikers" or maybe they were real bikers, Santana thought.

"How about you sit your pretty little behind here with us? Keep us company!" the perverted man laughed, causing his friends to laugh uproariously along with him.

"Keep your cool, Santana," she thought as she smiled mischievously. She walked back to the bartender and requested a bottle of water and two bottles of Coke.

Even though the bartender was observing the situation, he was confused at her request, yet he complied. He pulled out her items from behind the counter and laid them on the table. She began to pull out a five, but he waved his hand at her.

"On the house," he told her. She thanked him and flashed him a blushworthy wink before walking out of the bar, despite being called even more multiple derogatory terms by the "bikers".

It's okay, Santana thought to herself. She had a plan to end the night perfectly for her and not-so-perfectly for those bikers.

As she left the bar and into the frosty winter weather, she made her way to her destination: a line of bikes parked at the side entrance of the bar. Since those bikers were the only "bikers" there, she assumed the motorcycles belonged to them.

Removing the engine caps from the bikes, she carefully poured all the contents of Coke into each of them, being cautious not to make any spillage. As she capped the engine, she smiled to herself.

"Happy early Thanksgiving, assholes," she thought. She was contemplating whether or not it was a great idea to go back into the bar, give those bikers a piece of her mind, and then run back into her car, but she decided against it. Too dangerous, she thought.

So she decided to knock their bikes down instead.

Santana laughed to herself with the thought of those bikers coming out and seeing their bikes knocked down and disabled.

Even with the adrenaline-rushed feeling to her head of what she had done, Santana realized she really needed to get home and sleep. It was already nearing three in the morning as she made her way towards her car.

As she turned her key into the Mercedes-Benz ignition, out of the corner of her mirror, she noticed a police car pull into the bar and park by the main entrance.

"Damn it," Santana thought to herself, removing the keys from the ignition. Why did the cops have to patrol at this time, she wondered? Not only was she underage, but she would also be charged with driving under the influence as soon as she started the engine and got pulled over. Her fake ID from Hawaii may have worked on the cute bartender, who probably knew she was underage and decided to let her drink anyway, but it would not hold out against a licensed state trooper.

Santana decided to wait until the cop decided to leave, whenever that was going to be.

After half an hour of waiting, the cop was still there, leaving Santana absolutely frustrated. She might as well call someone to pick her up, but who in their right mind would pick Santana up at nearly four in the morning, especially on a Thanksgiving morning? Still, Santana did not want to spend the rest of her night inside her car, especially with those bikers due to come out of the bar at anytime.

As Santana pulled out her phone and scrolled down her list of contacts, she paused for a moment and stared at the highlighted name.

**Bri-Bri **

Keeping her hand steady after seeing Brittany's name in the contacts, she scrolled past the name and came upon **Puck**. She dialed his number, but it immediately went straight to his voicemail. She then settled on **Quinn Fabray **and dialed. Someone picked up the line, but before Santana could even say a "hello", the line went dead.

"Is there no one I can call?" Santana asked herself, breathing heavily and trying to keep warm from the cold weather.

It wasn't necessarily shocking. Only a true friend would come and get her at four in the morning. Santana realized then and there that she probably didn't have any close friends at all, except for Brittany. She kept to herself a lot. However, Santana was extremely against calling Brittany to come pick her up at the moment. There were certain…things that had happened, but Santana did not want to think about it at the moment. She was at the bar, drinking her sorrows away because of Brittany.

Finally, Santana settled on a name, but she was a little hesitant to call the number immediately.

**Frankenteen**

She continued to contemplate on calling the number, leaning back further into her seat. Ever since Finn outed her in school, she wasn't sure whether or not she should forgive him, even after he apologized to her and sang a cheesy acoustic version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". His apology was a genuine one, but Santana was still majorly pissed as always and being the bitch that she is, she didn't want to forgive him right away.

Well, here was his chance to get back into her grace.

Santana dialed the number and after several tones, she expected Finn not to answer, but just as she was about to press **End Call**, the phone picked up.

"Hello," Finn's voice mumbled.

"Hello. Finn?" Santana said.

"Who is this? Rachel?" Finn replied, his voice strained because of being waken up at four in the morning.

"No," Santana said quickly, "It's Santana."

"Santana?" Finn said, his voice perked up a bit louder. Santana could hear Finn sit up from his bed as he continued, "What's up? Do you need something?"

"Look, I know it's a little late in the night, but can you help me with something?"

Santana felt herself become embarrassed for some reason. She never asked people for helps or favors. She would demand it, but for some odd reason, on this night, Santana was asking politely for help. And even worse, it was to Finn, who she thought she hated.

"Help? With what?" Finn asked curiously.

"I'm at Rusty's Bar. And there's a cop here, waiting for drunk drivers. Can you come pick me up, please?"

"Are you drunk, Santana?"

"Does it really matter, Fetus Face? Look, if you can't come, I can always call someone else. So can you come? Please?"

"Um…" Santana heard Finn's said. He was probably going to say no, Santana thought. Why would he leave the warmness of his bed and the comfort of his house to pick up a person that has done nothing to him but insult him even more than he can bear everyday? Maybe it was her fault, Santana thought. She knew that she pushed Finn's buttons way too much and that had caused him to out her. It was curious though. She's mean to everyone, but to Finn, it was always the worst. Why was he always singled out by her, Santana wondered?

"It's okay, Finn. I guess I can wait til the cop leaves," Santana said hesitantly.

What the hell, Lopez, Santana thought? Why are you being so nice? Demand something for once. You're pissed, remember?

But before Santana could say anything further, she heard Finn reply, "Yea. I'll be there. Give me like 10 minutes. I think Rusty's just down the block or two from my house."

To truly act like Santana, she didn't even thank him or say anything. She hung up the phone. That was her way. She had to be cold to core. Can't be too soft, Santana decided.

Santana peered out of her window to see if the cop was still there. After several minutes of looking, she noticed his lights turned on as the car pulled out of the bar's parking lot.

Success, Santana thought, as she immediately rammed her keys into the ignition. She was about to pull out her phone again to call Finn to tell him not to come, but as she turned the key, to her horror, she found out that the car began to spurt gutturally, not even turning on at all. And even worse, the door to the bar suddenly opened and those bikers, whose motorcycles Santana ruined, began to step out.

Never in her life did Santana ever felt this much fear. She began to slink down to her chair to avoid the eyes of the bikers. She still kept one of her eyes fixed to them as her hands clutched to the drivers door. For safety precaution, she locked the doors.

She saw the bikers walk out of the bar, heads held high and laughing uproariously, just like in the bar, but as soon as they saw their bikes on the ground, they screamed and cursed. Lifting up their bikes, they tried to start the bike engine, but it would not work, like Santana expected.

More cursing. More screaming.

One of them ran back into the bar as the others kicked their bikes down and looked around to see if they can find the culprit responsible.

"Please don't come this way! Please don't come this way!" Santana prayed quietly. Where the hell was Finn, Santana wondered?

She gazed up to her rearview mirror and saw Finn's car coming from around the corner and towards the bar.

Thank God, Santana thought, as she slinkered over to the passenger side and climbed out of her car.

The car turned into the bar as Santana held her head low and tiptoed silently to the car. Before she approached, she noticed that it wasn't Finn in the driver seat. It wasn't even his truck at all. Another patron of the bar came outside and went into the car. Now here she was, in the middle of the parking lot, in plain sight of the bikers, and unable to move as her only help drove away.

"Hey. It's that bitch! It must've been her," she heard one of the biker yell. Santana began to run towards her car, but the one of the bikers got in front of her before she could get away. They grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against a customer's car.

"Well, looky what we have here. I thought you left already, ma'am. You wouldn't happen to know who did this, would you?" the biker asked, his voice reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

Santana felt a chill run up her spine, but it wasn't due to the cold weather.

One of the other bikers suggested, "Hey. Why don't we teach her a thing or two about manners?" The one holding her brandished a pocket knife and held it delicately to her throat. The bikers then pulled her into an alley right next to the bar.

Santana could not scream due to the fear that gripped her very soul at the moment. She could not move at all or open her eyes to see what was going on. As the men begin groping and touching the most intimate parts of her body, she prayed to God silently for deliverance.

"Hey, let her go," Santana heard a familiar voice yell.

"Or what?" One of the bikers replied, their attentions focused on the direction of the voice.

"You see that cop coming around the corner?" the voice asked.

Santana felt the knife leave her throat as footsteps started to rumble into a different direction. She didn't know why, but she slid to the ground.

"Santana!" she heard the voice scream, running over to her side.

She opened her eyes slowly to find an intense color of brown eyes staring at her.

"Finn," she cried as she wrapped her arms around Finn. She felt tears of relief flow from her face.

"It's okay, Santana," Finn assured, "It's okay. You're safe now."

He helped her up and they climbed into his warm truck. Finn started the engine and he drove to Santana's house.

It was silent for the first couple of minutes. Santana considered it a great use of time as she spent the silence building her "armor" back up. It wasn't until Finn decided to break the silence between them.

"So, are your parents at home?" Finn asked, to which Santana shook her head. She responded that they were celebrating Thanksgiving in the Barbados with her abuelita. Her grandmother still did not want to see her after she came out of the closet.

"Santana, why were you at the bar?" Finn asked as soon as she finished her answer.

Santana rolled her eyes at Finn and chose to ignore Finn's nosey question. It was so typical of Finn to do this.

"Santana?" Finn said again, turning to her direction.

"It's none of your business, Hudson," Santana snapped.

Finn smirked and said, "I just saved you from being molested by those bikers back there. I think I deserve an explanation of why I had to be there in the first place, don't you think?"

"Ok, Finn! If you want to hear, I went to the bar to have a drink. There. Finished. Now can you please stop your yapping and drive me home?" Santana said, folding her arms.

Finn turned his attention back on the road and said, "But why a bar? I'm sure you have alcohol at your house. Even Brittany has alcohol at her place."

Santana didn't want to do it, but at the sound of Brittany's name, she flinched and gazed out of her window. She was hoping Finn would not notice, but he did.

"It's Brittany, isn't it?" Finn asked after taking a deep breath, "Something happened between you and Brittany, right?"

"Why are you so goddamned annoying? For once in your life, can you not meddle in anyone's business?" Santana retorted.

She didn't expect to, but her anger forced her to confront even more underlying emotions. Despite her "armor" back on, Santana felt tears dripping from her eyes. She quickly brought her hands up to wipe them, so Finn would not see her tears.

Finn sucked in his breath for a moment and hesitated before asking calmly, "You want to tell me what happened? As a friend, San. Not to be nosey. I promise I won't tell a single soul."

Santana closed her eyes and leaned back against her chair to think. After a while, without looking at Finn, she opened her eyes again and gazed out at the window before replying slowly, "Brittany and I are breaking up."

"What? When?" Finn asked, shocked at Santana's reply.

"I haven't told her yet," Santana whimpered.

"Wait, what now? Why are you breaking up with her? I thought you and Brittany had a good thing going," Finn said, still confused.

Santana turned to look at Finn. She sobbed loudly, "She just doesn't get it. She doesn't understand how much I love her. She treats my love for her like it's some kind of game. She doesn't take me seriously at all."

Santana brought her knees up to her chest and began to sob heavily into them.

Finn had often put up with Rachel's crying all the time, but mostly it was due to broken dreams or frustrations about the present. Finn had never had anyone cry to him about relationship problems, so he honestly did not know what to do. What he did know that every women who cried, loved to be held, so Finn pulled over to the side of the road.

Santana did not respond to the car stopping at all and continued to have her head buried on her jeans. Finn removed his seatbelt. He wrapped one of his arms around Santana's shoulder and the other arm around her knees.

"I'm sure she does have feelings for you as well, but you know how Brittany is," Finn assured, being careful not to call Brittany the "d" or the "i" word again, "It might take awhile, but just be patient with her, Santana."

He kept his arms around her and they stayed in this position for about five minutes before Santana began to lift her head up.

Her face was extremely red, her make-up messed up, and her eyes and nose puffed up, yet Finn felt as if this was the first time he ever saw Santana in her most natural state, which rarely showed up unless she was really in a state of brokenness.

She wiped her eyes and with a choked voice, she said, "Thanks Finn, buts aren't you supposed to be driving me home?"

Finn smiled brightly at her and nodded his head.

"Anything for you, San," Finn replied, driving his car onto the main road again.

As Finn pulled into Santana's driveway, there seemed to be an awkward moment between the both of them, but Santana broke it by saying, "Well, thanks for the ride, Finn. I really appreciate your help tonight. I'll keep what you said in mind."

"No problem, Santana. See you next Monday," Finn replied as Santana climbed out of the car.

As she approached the door to her house, Finn had an idea on what he could do to help her forget about her sadness. After all, it is Thanksgiving Day, Finn thought, as he climbed out of his car and approached Santana from behind.

"Hey," he said, tapping her shoulders as she spun around.

"No, Finn, I don't bring half-giants into my house," Santana joked with a teary smile.

"It's not that Santana," Finn said immediately, "I wanted to see if you weren't busy or anything later on. I mean, I wanted to invite you to…um…if you wanted to, come eat Thanksgiving dinner with my family and me. I mean, if you want to…"

"Um…" Santana managed to stutter out, smiling awkwardly at Finn, whose face turned exceedingly red. And it was definitely not from the cold.

What would Thanksgiving dinner at the Hudsons be like, Santana thought? She had originally planned on baking herself a pumpkin pie (or maybe buying a slice at the store), making a turkey sandwich, and watching some reruns of CSI or CSI: Miami or maybe even NCIS, but she knew that it would be so much better to spend Thanksgiving with other people instead of being all by herself. And she did kinda owe Finn…

Finn caught onto her hesitation and still with his face red, he said, "You know what? You're probably busy anyway. Sorry I asked. I'll just be going."

Before he could even take three steps back to his car, he heard Santana say, "I would love to."

Finn turned around and gave Santana his signature goofy, dopey smile.

"Cool. That's cool then. I'll see you at 8 then, San."

As Finn headed back to his car, Santana went into her house, rebuking herself for even accepting Finn's invitation in the first place. Too many signs of weakness, Lopez, Santana thought to herself.

But then again…maybe she did need a friend, besides Brittany. She never had a "boy friend" before. Sure, most of the guys she was friends with in the past were also the same guys she slept with, but maybe a friend, who happens to be a boy, would actually be useful.

Maybe she needed something else to take her mind off of the situation between her and Brittany. Maybe befriending Finn would actually do the trick, but that would mean being friends with his Yentl girlfriend. And with the Sectionals competition coming up, Santana knew it was never a good idea to fraternize with the enemy (thank you Ron Weasley).

"Whatever," Santana thought to herself as soon as she entered her room and collapsed onto her bed, "I probably shouldn't think too much about it. It can't be that terrible being friends with Finn, can it?"

She never answered her question as she drifted into dreamy unconsciousness.

**Please read and review! **

**Likes/Dislikes/Theories**

**Do you like the pairing? Opinions welcomed! **


End file.
